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Old Marley Was As Dead As A Doornail. Mind! I Don't Mean To Say That, Of My Own Knowledge, What There Is Particularly Dead About A Doornail. I Might Have Been Inclined, Myself, To Regard A Coffin-nail As The Deadest Piece Of Ironmongery In The Trade. But The Wisdom Of Our Ancestors Is In The Simile; And My Unhallowed Hands Shall Not Disturb It, Or The Country's Done For. You Will Therefore Permit Me To Repeat, Emphatically, That Marley Was As Dead As A Doornail.

-Charles Dickens

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Old Marley Was As

Charles Dickens

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Old Marley Was As Dead As A Doornail. Mind! I Don't Mean To Say That, Of My Own Knowledge, What There Is Particularly Dead About A Doornail. I Might Have Been Inclined, Myself, To Regard A Coffin-nail As The Deadest Piece Of Ironmongery In The Trade. But The Wisdom Of Our Ancestors Is In The Simile; And My Unhallowed Hands Shall Not Disturb It, Or The Country's Done For. You Will Therefore Permit Me To Repeat, Emphatically, That Marley Was As Dead As A Doornail.

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In A Utilitarian Age, Of All Other Times, It Is A Matter Of Grave Importance That Fairy Tales Should Be Respected.

How Could You Give Me Life, And Take From Me All The Inappreciable Things That Raise It From The State Of Conscious Death? Where Are The Graces Of My Soul? Where Are The Sentiments Of My Heart? What Have You Done, Oh, Father, What Have You Done With The Garden That Should Have Bloomed Once, In This Great Wilderness Here? Said Louisa As She Touched Her Heart.

Suffering Has Been Stronger Than All Other Teaching, And Has Taught Me To Understand What Your Heart Used To Be. I Have Been Bent And Broken, But - I Hope - Into A Better Shape.

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There Can't Be A Quarrel Without Two Parties, And I Won't Be One. I Will Be A Friend To You In Spite Of You. So Now You Know What You've Got To Expect

... Treachery Don't Come Natural To Beaming Youth; But Trust And Pity, Love And Constancy,-they Do, Thank God!

Words Of Wisdom

Renunciation Remains Sorrow, Though A Sorrow Borne Willingly.

Never, Never, Before Heaven, Have I Thought Of You But As The Single, Bright, Pure, Blessed Recollection Of My Boyhood And My Youth. Never Have I From The First, And Never Shall I To The Last, Regard Your Part In My Life, But As Something Sacred, Never To Be Lightly Thought Of, Never To Be Esteemed Enough, Never, Until Death, To Be Forgotten.

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Do The Wise Thing And The Kind Thing Too, And Make The Best Of Us And Not The Worst.

"we Will Wait," Answered Little Alice, Taking Nettie's Hand In Hers, And Looking Up To The Sky, "we Will Wait - Ever Constant And True - Till The Times Have Got So Changed As That Everything Helps Us Out, And Nothing Makes Us Ridiculous, And The Fairies Have Come Back. We Will Wait - Ever Constant And True - Till We Are Eighty, Ninety, Or One Hundred. And Then The Fairies Will Send Us Children, And We Will Help Them Out, Poor Pretty Little Creatures, If They Pretend Ever So Much."

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We Were Equals Afterwards, As We Had Been Before; But, Afterwards At Quiet Times When I Sat Looking At Joe And Thinking About Him, I Had A New Sensation Of Feeling Conscious That I Was Looking Up To Joe In My Heart.

Cleanliness Is Next To Godliness, And Some People Do The Same By Their Religion.

Don't Be Afraid! We Won't Make An Author Of You, While There's An Honest Trade To Be Learnt, Or Brick-making To Turn To.

It Is The Fate Of Most Men Who Mingle With The World, And Attain Even The Prime Of Life, To Make Many Real Friends, And Lose Them In The Course Of Nature. It Is The Fate Of All Authors Or Chroniclers To Create Imaginary Friends, And Lose Them In The Course Of Art. Nor Is This The Full Extent Of Their Misfortunes; For They Are Required To Furnish An Account Of Them Besides.

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Words Of Wisdom

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My Life Is One Demd Horrid Grind.

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Send Forth The Child And Childish Man Together, And Blush For The Pride That Libels Our Own Old Happy State, And Gives Its Title To An Ugly And Distorted Image.

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There Lives At Least One Being Who Can Never Change-one Being Who Would Be Content To Devote His Whole Existence To Your Happiness-who Lives But In Your Eyes-who Breathes But In Your Smiles-who Bears The Heavy Burden Of Life Itself Only For You.

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Good Never Come Of Such Evil, A Happier End Was Not In Nature To So Unhappy A Beginning.

Every Man, However Obscure, However Far Removed From The General Recognition, Is One Of A Group Of Men Impressible For Good, And Impressible For Evil, And It Is In The Nature Of Things That He Cannot Really Improve Himself Without In Some Degree Improving Other Men.

... When The Locked Door Opens, And There Comes In A Young Woman, Deadly Pale, And With Long Fair Hair, Who Glides To The Fire, And Sits Down In The Chair We Have Left There, Wringing Her Hands.

An Evening Wind Uprose Too, And The Slighter Branches Cracked And Rattled As They Moved, In Skeleton Dances, To Its Moaning Music.

You Will Profit By The Failure, And Will Avoid It Another Time. I Have Done A Similar Thing Myself, In Construction, Often. Every Failure Teaches A Man Something, If He Will Learn.

Words Of Wisdom

I Took A Good Deal O' Pains With His Eddication, Sir; Let Him Run In The Streets When He Was Very Young, And Shift For Hisself. It's The Only Way To Make A Boy Sharp, Sir.

My Dear Young Lady, Crime, Like Death, Is Not Confined To The Old And Withered Alone. The Youngest And Fairest Are Too Often Its Chosen Victims.

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There Is Something In Sickness That Breaks Down The Pride Of Manhood.

I Had Considered How The Things That Never Happen, Are Often As Much Realities To Us, In Their Effects, As Those That Are Accomplished.

Words Of Wisdom

In The Majority Of Cases, Conscience Is An Elastic And Very Flexible Article

It Was A Foggy Day In London, And The Fog Was Heavy And Dark. Animate London, With Smarting Eyes And Irritated Lungs, Was Blinking, Wheezing, And Choking; Inanimate London Was A Sooty Spectre, Divided In Purpose Between Being Visible And Invisible, And So Being Wholly Neither.

I Believe That The Heaviest Blow Ever Dealt At Liberty's Head Will Be Dealt By This Nation In The Ultimate Failure Of Its Example To The Earth.

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Words Of Wisdom

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It Being A Remarkable Fact In Theatrical History, But One Long Since Established Beyond Dispute, That It Is A Hopeless Endeavor To Attract People To A Theatre Unless They Can Be First Brought To Believe That They Will Never Get In.

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Poetry's Unnat'ral; No Man Ever Talked Poetry 'cept A Beadle On Boxin' Day, Or Warren's Blackin' Or Rowland's Oil, Or Some O' Them Low Fellows; Never You Let Yourself Down To Talk Poetry, My Boy.

"why, I Don't Exactly Know About Perjury, My Dear Sir," Replied The Little Gentleman. "harsh Word, My Dear Sir, Very Harsh Word Indeed. It's A Legal Fiction, My Dear Sir, Nothing More."

Spring Flew Swiftly By, And Summer Came; And If The Village Had Been Beautiful At First, It Was Now In The Full Glow And Luxuriance Of Its Richness. The Great Trees, Which Had Looked Shrunken And Bare In The Earlier Months, Had Now Burst Into Strong Life And Health; And Stretching Forth Their Green Arms Over The Thirsty Ground, Converted Open And Naked Spots Into Choice Nooks, Where Was A Deep And Pleasant Shade From Which To Look Upon The Wide Prospect, Steeped In Sunshine, Which Lay Stretched Out Beyond.

He Did Each Single Thing As If He Did Nothing Else.

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Minds, Like Bodies, Will Often Fall Into A Pimpled, Ill-conditioned State From Mere Excess Of Comfort.

There Was A Frosty Rime Upon The Trees, Which, In The Faint Light Of The Clouded Moon, Hung Upon The Smaller Branches Like Dead Garlands.

"peggotty!" Repeated Miss Betsey, With Some Indignation. "do You Mean To Say, Child, That Any Human Being Has Gone Into A Christian Church, And Got Herself Named Peggotty?"

It Was A Dagger In The Haughty Father's Heart, An Arrow In His Brain, To See How The Flesh And Blood He Could Not Disown Clung To This Obscure Stranger, And He Sitting By. Not That He Cared To Whom His Daughter Turned, Or From Whom Turned Away. The Swift Sharp Agony Struck Through Him, As He Thought Of What His Son Might Do.

I Have Sometimes Sat Alone Here Of An Evening, Listening, Until I Have Made The Echoes Out To Be The Echoes Of All The Footsteps That Are Coming By And By Into Our Lives. "jerry, Say That My Answer Was, 'recalled To Life.

The Appearance Presented By The Streets Of London An Hour Before Sunrise, On A Summer's Morning, Is Most Striking Even To The Few Whose Unfortunate Pursuits Of Pleasure, Or Scarcely Less Unfortunate Pursuits Of Business, Cause Them To Be Well Acquainted With The Scene. There Is An Air Of Cold, Solitary Desolation About The Noiseless Streets Which We Are Accustomed To See Thronged At Other Times By A Busy, Eager Crowd, And Over The Quiet, Closely-shut Buildings, Which Throughout The Day Are Swarming With Life And Bustle, That Is Very Impressive.

Notwithstanding His Very Liberal Laudation Of Himself, However, The Major Was Selfish. It May Be Doubted Whether There Ever Was A More Entirely Selfish Person At Heart; Or At Stomach Is Perhaps A Better Expression, Seeing That He Was More Decidedly Endowed With That Latter Organ Than With The Former.

Moths, And All Sorts Of Ugly Creatures, Hover About A Lighted Candle. Can The Candle Help It?

Accidents Will Occur In The Best Regulated Families.

Words Of Wisdom

…a Lady Of What Is Commonly Called An Uncertain Temper --a Phrase Which Being Interpreted Signifies A Temper Tolerably Certain To Make Everybody More Or Less Uncomfortable.

There Is Nothing So Strong Or Safe In An Emergency Of Life As The Simple Truth.

The Wind Is Rushing After Us, And The Clouds Are Flying After Us, And The Moon Is Plunging After Us, And The Whole Wild Night Is In Pursuit Of Us; But, So Far We Are Pursued By Nothing Else.

The Young Woman Who Brought Me Acquainted With Captain Murderer Had A Fiendish Enjoyment Of My Terrors, And Used To Begin, I Remember - As A Sort Of Introductory Overture - By Clawing The Air With Both Hands, And Uttering A Long Low Hollow Groan. So Acutely Did I Suffer From This Ceremony In Combination With This Infernal Captain, That I Sometimes Used To Plead I Thought I Was Hardly Strong Enough And Old Enough To Hear The Story Again Just Yet.

They Enter, Locking Themselves In, Descend The Rugged Steps, And Are Down In The Crypt. The Lantern Is Not Wanted, For The Moonlight Strikes In At The Groined Windows, Bare Of Glass, The Broken Frames For Which Cast Patterns On The Ground. The Heavy Pillars Which Support The Roof Engender Masses Of Black Shade, But Between Them There Are Lanes Of Light.

. . . In Seclusion, She Had Secluded Herself From A Thousand Natural And Healing Influences; That, Her Mind, Brooding Solitary, Had Grown Diseased, As All Minds Do And Must And Will That Reverse The Appointed Order Of Their Maker . . .

She Was Too Intent Upon Her Work, And Too Earnest In What She Said, And Too Composed And Quiet Altogether, To Be On The Watch For Any Look He Might Direct Towards Her In Reply; So The Shaft Of His Ungrateful Glance Fell Harmless, And Did Not Wound Her.

I Have A Heart To Be Stabbed In Or Shot In, I Have No Doubt, And, Of Course, If It Ceased To Beat, I Would Cease To Be. But You Know What I Mean. I Have No Softness There, No—sympathy—sentiment—nonsense.

Some Of The Craftiest Scoundrels That Ever Walked This Earth . . . Will Gravely Jot Down In Diaries The Events Of Every Day, And Keep A Regular Debtor And Creditor Account With Heaven, Which Shall Always Show A Floating Balance In Their Own Favour.

Words Of Wisdom

To See The Butcher Slap The Steak Before He Laid It On The Block, And Give His Knife A Sharpening, Was To Forget Breakfast Instantly. It Was Agreeable Too - It Really Was - To See Him Cut It Off So Smooth And Juicy. There Was Nothing Savage In The Act, Although The Knife Was Large And Keen; It Was A Piece Of Art, High Art; There Was Delicacy Of Touch, Clearness Of Tone, Skilful Handling Of The Subject, Fine Shading. It Was The Triumph Of Mind Over Matter; Quite.

May I Tell You Why It Seems To Me A Good Thing For Us To Remember Wrong That Has Been Done Us? That We May Forgive It.

He Had A Certain Air Of Being A Handsome Man-which He Was Not; And A Certain Air Of Being A Well-bred Man-which He Was Not. It Was Mere Swagger And Challenge; But In This Particular, As In Many Others, Blustering Assertion Goes For Proof, Half Over The World.

Why Then We Should Drop Into Poetry.

This Fine Young Man Had All The Inclination To Be A Profligate Of The First Water, And Only Lacked The One Good Trait In The Common Catalogue Of Debauched Vices - Open-handedness - To Be A Notable Vagabond. But There His Griping And Penurious Habits Stepped In; And As One Poison Will Sometimes Neutralise Another, When Wholesome Remedies Would Not Avail, So He Was Restrained By A Bad Passion From Quaffing His Full Measure Of Evil, When Virtue Might Have Sought To Hold Him Back In Vain.

"as I Think I Told You Once Before," Said I, "it Is You Who Have Been, In Your Greed And Cunning, Against All The World. It May Be Profitable To You To Reflect, In Future, That There Never Were Greed And Cunning In The World Yet, That Did Not Do Too Much, And Overreach Themselves. It Is As Certain As Death."

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I Took Her Hand In Mine, And We Went Out Of The Ruined Place; And, As The Morning Mists Had Risen Long Ago When I First Left The Forge, So, The Evening Mists Were Rising Now, And In All The Broad Expanse Of Tranquil Light They Showed To Me, I Saw No Shadow Of Another Parting From Her.

One Always Begins To Forgive A Place As Soon As It's Left Behind.

Your Voice And Music Are The Same To Me.

I Was A Blacksmith's Boy But Yesterday; I Am - What Shall I Say I Am Today?

The Doctor Seemed Especially Troubled By The Fact Of The Robbery Having Been Unexpected, And Attempted In The Night-time; As If It Were The Established Custom Of Gentlemen In The Housebreaking Way To Transact Business At Noon, And To Make An Appointment, By The Twopenny Post, A Day Or Two Previous.

He Was Touched In The Cavity Where His Heart Should Have Been, In That Nest Of Addled Eggs, Where The Birds Of Heaven Would Have Lived If They Had Not Been Whistled Away, By The Fervour Of This Reproach.

Oh The Nerves, The Nerves; The Mysteries Of This Machine Called Man! Oh The Little That Unhinges It, Poor Creatures That We Are!

I Am In The Theatrical Profession Myself, My Wife Is In The Theatrical Profession, My Children Are In The Theatrical Profession.i Had A Dog That Lived And Died In It From A Puppy; And My Chaise-pony Goes On, In Timour The Tartar.

The Great Commander, Who Seemed By Expression Of His Visage To Be Always On The Look-out For Something In The Extremest Distance, And To Have No Ocular Knowledge Of Anything Within Ten Miles, Made No Reply Whatever.

Everything That Mr Smallweed's Grandfather Ever Put Away In His Mind Was A Grub At First, And Is A Grub At Last. In All His Life He Has Never Bred A Single Butterfly.

Come In, -- Come In! And Know Me Better, Man! I Am The Ghost Of Christmas Present. Look Upon Me! You Have Never Seen The Like Of Me Before!

Many Merry Christmases, Many Happy New Years. Unbroken Friendships, Great Accumulations Of Cheerful Recollections And Affections On Earth, And Heaven For Us All.

"drink With Me, My Dear," Said Mr. Weller. "put Your Lips To This Here Tumbler, And Then I Can Kiss You By Deputy."

I Have Tried To Resign Myself, And To Console Myself; And That, I Hope, I May Have Done Imperfectly; But What I Cannot Firmly Settle In My Mind Is, That The End Will Absolutely Come. I Hold Her Hand In Mine, I Hold Her Heart In Mine, I See Her Love For Me, Alive In All Its Strength. I Cannot Shut Out A Pale Lingering Shadow Of Belief That She Will Be Spared.

Around And Around The House The Leaves Fall Thick, But Never Fast, For They Come Circling Down With A Dead Lightness That Is Sombre And Slow.

There Is No Substitute For Thoroughgoing, Ardent, And Sincere Earnestness.

Equity Sends Questions To Law. Law Sends Questions Back To Equity; Law Finds It Can't Do This, Equity Finds It Can't Do That; Neither Can Do Anything, Without This Solicitor Instructing And This Counsel Appearing For A, And That Solicitor Instructing & That Counsel Appearing For B.

The Christmas Season Reminds Us That A Demonstration Of Religion Is Always Much Better Than A Definition Of It...especially In Front Of The Kids. Perhaps The Best Yuletide Decorations Are To Be Wreathed In Smiles And Wrapped In Hugs. The Miracle Of Christmas Is That A Baby Can Be So Decisive. It Is Good To Be Children Sometimes, And Never Better Than At Christmas, When Its Mighty Founder Was A Child Himself.

When I Have Come To You, At Last (as I Have Always Done), I Have Come To Peace And Happiness. I Come Home, Now, Like A Tired Traveller, And Find Such A Blessed Sense Of Rest!

A Little Learning Is A Dangerous Thing, But A Little Patronage More So.

I Confess I Have Yet To Learn That A Lesson Of The Purest Good May Not Be Drawn From The Vilest Evil.

There Are People Enough To Tread Upon Me In My Lowly State, Without My Doing Outrage To Their Feelings By Possessing Learning. Learning Ain't For Me. A Person Like Myself Had Better Not Aspire. If He Is To Get On In Life, He Must Get On 'umbly, Master Copperfield!

Mr. Bazzard's Father, Being A Norfolk Farmer, Would Have Furiously Laid About Him With A Flail, A Pitch-fork, And Every Agricultural Implement Available For Assaulting Purposes, On The Slightest Hint Of His Son's Having Written A Play.

As I Never Saw My Father Or My Mother, And Never Saw Any Likeness Of Either Of Them (for Their Days Were Long Before The Days Of Photographs), My First Fancies Regarding What They Were Like, Were Unreasonably Derived From Their Tombstones. The Shape Of The Letters On My Father's, Gave Me An Odd Idea That He Was A Square, Stout, Dark Man, With Curly Black Hair. From The Character And Turn Of The Inscription, "also Georgiana Wife Of The Above", I Drew A Childish Conclusion That My Mother Was Freckled And Sickly.

It Was A Long And Gloomy Night That Gathered On Me, Haunted By The Ghosts Of Many Hopes, Of Many Dear Remembrances, Many Errors, Many Unavailing Sorrows And Regrets.

At The Great Iron Gate Of The Churchyard He Stopped And Looked In. He Looked Up At The High Tower Spectrally Resisting The Wind, And He Looked Round At The White Tombstones, Like Enough To The Dead In Their Winding-sheets, And He Counted The Nine Tolls Of The Clock-bell.

There Was Not One Straight Floor From The Foundation To The Roof; The Ceilings Were So Fantastically Clouded By Smoke And Dust, That Old Women Might Have Told Fortunes In Them Better Than In Grouts Of Tea.

We Must Leave The Discovery Of This Mystery, Like All Others, To Time, And Accident, And Heaven's Pleasure.

Mrs. Boffin, Insisting That Bella Should Make Tomorrow's Expedition In The Chariot, She Went Home In Great Grandeur. Mrs. Wilfer And Miss Lavinia Had Speculated Much On The Probabilities And Improbabilities Of Her Coming In This Gorgeous State, And, On Beholding The Chariot From The Window At Which They Were Secreted To Look Out For It, Agreed That It Must Be Detained At The Door As Long As Possible, For The Mortification And Confusion Of The Neighbours.

To Have A Cricket On The Hearth Is The Luckiest Thing In All The World!

Christmas Is A Time In Which, Of All Times In The Year, The Memory Of Every Remediable Sorrow, Wrong, And Trouble In The World Around Us, Should Be Active With Us, Not Less Than Our Own Experiences, For All Good.

Detestation Of The High Is The Involuntary Homage Of The Low.

Love Is In All Things A Most Wonderful Teacher.

There Are Dark Shadows On The Earth, But Its Lights Are Stronger In The Contrast.

Ven You Read The Speeches In The Papers, And See As Vun Gen'lman Says Of Another, 'the Honourable Member, If He Vill Allow Me To Call Him So' You Vill Understand, Sir, That That Means, 'if He Vill Allow Me To Keep Up That 'ere Pleasant And Uniwersal Fiction.'

There Was A Little Plate Of Hothouse Nectarines On The Table, And There Was Another Of Grapes, And Another Of Sponge-cakes, And There Was A Bottle Of Light Wine ... 'this Is My Frugal Breakfast ... Give Me My Peach, My Cup Of Coffee, And My Claret.'

It Can't Be Supposed," Said Joe. "tho' I'm Oncommon Fond Of Reading, Too." Are You, Joe?" Oncommon. Give Me," Said Joe, "a Good Book, Or A Good Newspaper, And Sit Me Down Afore A Good Fire, And I Ask No Better. Lord!" He Continued, After Rubbing His Knees A Little, "when You Do Come To A J And A O, And Says You, 'here, At Last, Is A J-o, Joe,' How Interesting Reading Is!

"then What Can You Want To Do Now?" Said The Old Lady,gaining Courage. "i Wants To Make Your Flesh Creep," Replied The Boy.

... She Indulged In Melancholy - That Cheapest And Most Accessible Of Luxuries.

Mankind Was My Business... Charity, Mercy, Forbearance, Benevolence, Were All My Business.

I Wear The Chain I Forged In Life....i Made It Link By Link, And Yard By Yard; I Girded It On Of My Own Free Will, And Of My Own Free Will I Wore It.

Keep Out Of Chancery. It's Being Ground To Bits In A Slow Mill; It's Being Roasted At A Slow Fire; It's Being Stung To Death By Single Bees; It's Being Drowned By Drops; It's Going Mad By Grains.

Poetry Makes Life What Lights And Music Do The Stage.

In The Moonlight Which Is Always Sad, As The Light Of The Sun Itself Is--as The Light Called Human Life Is--at Its Coming And Its Going.

Mr. Pickwick Took A Seat And The Paper, But Instead Of Reading The Latter, Peeped Over The Top Of It, And Took A Survey Of The Man Of Business, Who Was An Elderly, Pimply-faced, Vegetable-diet Sort Of Man, In A Black Coat, Dark Mixture Trousers, And Small Black Gaiters; A Kind Of Being Who Seemed To Be An Essential Part Of The Desk At Which He Was Writing, And To Have As Much Thought Or Sentiment.

There Are Some Upon This Earth Of Yours,' Returned The Spirit, 'who Lay Claim To Know Us, And Who Do Their Deeds Of Passion, Pride, Ill-will, Hatred, Envy, Bigotry, And Selfishness In Our Name; Who Are As Strange To Us And All Our Kith And Kin, As If They Had Never Lived. Remember That, And Charge Their Doings On Themselves, Not Us.

It Is Well For A Man To Respect His Own Vocation Whatever It Is And To Think Himself Bound To Uphold It And To Claim For It The Respect It Deserves

Have I Yet To Learn That The Hardest And Best-borne Trials Are Those Which Are Never Chronicled In Any Earthly Record, And Are Suffered Every Day!

Words Of Wisdom

She's The Sort Of Woman Now,' Said Mould, . . . 'one Would Almost Feel Disposed To Bury For Nothing: And Do It Neatly, Too!

... Take Another Glass Of Wine, And Excuse My Mentioning That Society As A Body Does Not Expect One To Be So Strictly Conscientious In Emptying One's Glass, As To Turn It Bottom Upwards With The Rim On One's Nose.

The Sun Himself Is Weak When He First Rises, And Gathers Strength And Courage As The Day Gets On.

It Has Always Been My Opinion Since I First Possessed Such A Thing As An Opinion, That The Man Who Knows Only One Subject Is Next Tiresome To The Man Who Knows No Subject. Therefore, In The Course Of My Life I Have Taught Myself Whatever I Could, And Although I Am Not An Educated Man, I Am Able, I Am Thankful To Say, To Have An Intelligent Interest In Most Things.

Words Of Wisdom

Fledgeby Deserved Mr. Alfred Lammle's Eulogium. He Was The Meanest Cur Existing, With A Single Pair Of Legs. And Instinct (a Word We All Clearly Understand) Going Largely On Four Legs, And Reason Always On Two, Meanness On Four Legs Never Attains The Perfection Of Meanness On Two.

Little Red Riding Hood Was My First Love. I Felt That If I Could Have Married Little Red Riding Hood, I Should Have Known Perfect Bliss.

Electric Communication Will Never Be A Substitute For The Face Of Someone Who With Their Soul Encourages Another Person To Be Brave And True.

Thought Provoking

I Never Had One Hour's Happiness In Her Society, And Yet My Mind All Round The Four-and-twenty Hours Was Harping On The Happiness Of Having Her With Me Unto Death.

Its Matter Was Not New To Me, But Was Presented In A New Aspect. It Shook Me In My Habit - The Habit Of Nine-tenths Of The World - Of Believing That All Was Right About Me, Because I Was Used To It.

Words Of Wisdom

And I Am Bored To Death With It. Bored To Death With This Place, Bored To Death With My Life, Bored To Death With Myself.

The Year End Brings No Greater Pleasure Then The Opportunity To Express To You Season's Greetings And Good Wishes. May Your Holidays And New Year Be Filled With Joy.

Mr. Cruncher... Always Spoke Of The Year Of Our Lord As Anna Dominoes: Apparently Under The Impression That The Christian Era Dated From The Invention Of A Popular Game, By A Lady Who Had Bestowed Her Name Upon It.

I Think The Romans Must Have Aggravated One Another Very Much, With Their Noses. Perhaps, They Became The Restless People They Were, In Consequence.

And It Is Not A Slight Thing When They, Who Are So Fresh From God, Love Us.

Women Can Always Put Things In Fewest Words. Except When It's Blowing Up; And Then They Lengthens It Out.

... Natural Affections And Instincts, My Dear Sir, Are The Most Beautiful Of The Almighty's Works, But Like Other Beautiful Works Of His, They Must Be Reared And Fostered, Or It Is As Natural That They Should Be Wholly Obscured, And That New Feelings Should Usurp Their Place, As It Is That The Sweetest Productions Of The Earth, Left Untended, Should Be Choked With Weeds And Briers.

The Citizen ... Preserved The Resolute Bearing Of One Who Was Not To Be Frowned Down Or Daunted, And Who Cared Very Little For Any Nobility But That Of Worth And Manhood.

For Though We Are Perpetually Bragging Of It As Our Safety, It Is Nothing But A Poor Fringe On The Mantle Of The Upper.

I Am Light As A Feather, I Am As Happy As An Angel, I Am As Merry As A Schoolboy

All Other Swindlers Upon Earth Are Nothing To The Self-swindlers, And With Such Pretences Did I Cheat Myself.

A Merry Christmas To Everybody! A Happy New Year To All The World!

It Is A Pleasant Thing To Reflect Upon, And Furnishes A Complete Answer To Those Who Contend For The Gradual Degeneration Of The Human Species, That Every Baby Born Into The World Is A Finer One Than The Last.

It Was Darkly Rumoured That The Butler, Regarding Him With Favour Such As That Stern Man Had Never Shown Before To Mortal Boy, Had Sometimes Mingled Porter With His Table Beer To Make Him Strong.

"mine Ain't A Selfish Affection, You Know," Said Mr. Toots, In The Confidence Engendered By His Having Been A Witness Of The Captain's Tenderness. "it's The Sort Of Thing With Me, Captain Gills, That If I Could Be Run Over - Or - Or Trampled Upon - Or - Or Thrown Off A Very High Place -or Anything Of That Sort - For Miss Dombey's Sake, It Would Be The Most Delightful Thing That Could Happen To Me."

How Beautiful You Are! You Are More Beautiful In Anger Than In Repose. I Don't Ask You For Your Love; Give Me Yourself And Your Hatred; Give Me Yourself And That Pretty Rage; Give Me Yourself And That Enchanting Scorn; It Will Be Enough For Me.

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